


Questionable Intentions

by mylittlejaybird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Knifeplay, M/M, Mild Painplay, Multiple Orgasms, Oni Genji Shimada, Overstimulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, wireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-12-07 23:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11634012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittlejaybird/pseuds/mylittlejaybird
Summary: Zenyatta is rudely interrupted from his meditation.





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write evil!Genji okay.

**** Zenyatta sits away from the rest of the temple at a quiet altar that is sheltered from the weather by three walls, hidden from sight should anyone look towards it. It’s far enough away that the sounds of the busy life of the monastery aren’t able to reach him, even if he was to max out his auditory processors.

It also means no one there would be able to hear him no matter how much noise he made. His attacker must have known this when they struck.

It’s sudden; one moment he’s meditating before the altar, the next he’s shoved up against it, hands scattering the offerings in front of it as he tries to catch himself. He stills very fast when the sharp edge of a blade rests against his throat. The pistons of his neck normally offer some protection but the blade has been slipped behind them to lay against the cords beneath.

He raises his hands slowly to show he is unarmed, his mala resting - seemingly - harmlessly around his neck. “How can I be of assistance to you this evening?”

The blade digs in a little harder and he stops moving altogether. A deep, dark voice rolls over him, sending sparks throughout his network.

“Give yourself to me, and I may let the rest of them live.” 

The mala shifts at the threat, but the knife tilts his head back further, though still not far enough for him to give a face to the voice.

“Struggle and it will only be worse for  _ them _ .” His attacker warns, threatening his home and possibly all those in the village as well.

“Then I am yours to do with as you wish.”

“I wish to destroy you and leave your pieces spread across the mountain, to never be found.” The blade lays flat against his throat and his assailant grabs both ends to yank him backwards, throwing him to the ground and slamming a foot down onto his chest to keep him there. It gives him a clear view of them.

Their face is stark white, with eyes, horns and tusks that are all a rich crimson. The mouth is curled in a cruel grin, and they wield a wakizashi blade which is aimed towards him. Every exposed inch of them is prosthetic. He had seen images before of such a creature.

“You are an Oni.”

The wakizashi is pressed to his chin, forcing it up. “Then you know I am serious about what I’m going to do to you.”

“Spread my pieces across the mountain, I believe you said?” His voice is steady, and his body language betrays nothing. No muscles to tense or tremor. It gives him a tiny advantage. He has to be patient.

“Yes, monk. I’m going to ruin you in every way possible.” The Oni steps backwards, tapping Zenyatta’s knee with his blade. “Stand up, turn around, and cross your arms behind your back.”

Zenyatta does as requested. He looks over his shoulder at the demon, meeting those bright red eyes unflinchingly. “How else may I be of assistance?”

“ _ Baka iuna. _ ” The flat of the wakizashi sharply strikes the side of his faceplate. “Optics front.”

He turns and gazes at the altar, saddened that the offerings left have been disturbed. He makes a mental note to replace them, assuming he lives through this.

The feeling of his wrists being bound isn’t new, much to the dismay of his brothers and sisters in the Shambali. His forearms are tied together as well, up to his elbows, leaving him arching a little awkwardly to lessen the strain on his pistons. He freezes when he feels fingers touch the exposed wires running down the length of his spine.

“Your kind are either brave or foolish, leaving your weaknesses exposed like this.” The wires are tugged roughly and he cries out a little at the strong sensation that it causes. It is neither pain nor pleasure; it merely  _ is. _ “If I cut them is that death for you, I wonder?”

Zenyatta might tell the Oni if it wouldn’t put the others living at the monastery in danger. He will not freely give such information. Luckily, it seems to be a rhetorical question. His wires are released.

The tug and  _ snick _ of his sash being cut from his waist isn’t completely unexpected. His pants quickly slip down with nothing to hold them up. He lets them.

The Oni comes around to his front, looking him over with those fiercely intelligent red eyes, mouth still grinning. The blade taps against his inner thigh, but he doesn’t look away from that eerie white face. “I didn’t expect a monk to be modded. Thought I’d have to fuck a hole of my own making.”

“I enjoy experiencing all types of pleasure.” He freely admits. “It allows for an intimate connection seldom few other activities can achieve.”

The demon laughs, sharp teeth glinting. The blade creeps higher until the dull edge is resting against his valve. “You think this is going to be  _ fun _ ?”

“What do you desire of me?”

A backhand staggers him, but the pants still around his ankles send him crashing to the ground on his side, unable to catch himself with his bound hands. His head hits the base of the altar with a loud  _ clang _ that momentarily has him seeing static. The mala around his neck drops, his concentration effectively shattered. The individual orbs roll every which way, all of them out of his reach.

“I want you to scream, and know that no one will hear you.” He is yanked back up onto his knees, and then teeth are against the side of his neck as a hand holds him against the Oni’s shoulder by his throat. A low growl is all the warning he’s given before those teeth slice through the protective coating of his wires, nicking them and causing sparks to flash from the wounds. The demon seems to approve, because those teeth continue to ravage his throat, stripping it of protection and leaving it one raw, exposed nerve.

So when they close on the bare, sparking wires, he does scream. The strong flash of power has his system flaring with sensory input, and steam vents from his core. The Oni laughs. 

“You are putting up significantly less of a fight than I expected. Not as composed as you’d have everyone believe, are you?”

“Even the strongest mountain is reduced to stones with enough time.” His voice is steady despite the sparks flickering at his throat. 

The Oni slides the hand not around Zenyatta’s neck down, trailing over his chest and caressing a piston down to his pelvis. The prosthetic fingers skirt the edges of his valve, teasing the pleasure node there. “Do you think it will take me long to break you?”

Zenyatta forces himself to relax despite the violating touch, ignoring the small flashes of pleasure through his system. “Am I assisting you in doing so or are you going it alone?”

“ _ Fuzakeru na. _ ” Metal fingers pinch his node hard and he cries out, though the sound is far from pain. A growl rumbles against the back of his neck. “You were programmed to enjoy pain.”

“I did say I enjoy all types of pleasure.” He points out, unable to keep the edge of amusement from his tone.

“Oh, I am going to  _ enjoy _ breaking you.” 

“Zenyatta.” He tilts his head, allowing his optics to glimpse his assailant. “If it matters.”

Fingers curl in his exposed neck wires and yank his head forward again, ignoring the sound he makes and the shower of sparks from his frayed wires. “Mind yourself. I will call you whatever I desire, _aho_ _. _ ”

Zenyatta adjusts his arms to test the strain on his pistons; they were pushed near the limits of what they could take. “I look forward to what you come up with.”

The demon laughs and shoves him up against the altar, kicking aside the rest of the offerings. “You are so willing to die for them that you purposely taunt me?”

His legs are kicked apart and two fingers ease past the folds of his valve and into the slick warm heat of his mod. Steam vents at the unexpected fullness, and he makes a small sound of surprise before composing himself. “You will do as you please regardless, will you not? I do not have to take your words and  _ ah!  _ Actions lying down.”

“No, you’ll take it standing up.” The fingers are pulled out - likely he had been checked for anti-assault mods - and he hears the sound of the Oni adjusting clothing as needed.

Zenyatta leans forward and spreads his legs more, presenting himself. No need to make it harder for his attacker to get what was desired from him. He’d give as few reasons to invite more pain as possible.

“You would make an eager whore.” 

“I do, when I so desire.” He has no breath to regulate to keep calm and composed, and nothing he said would stop this. His fans cycle on, trying to regulate his core temperature. With his arms bound he’s at a severe disadvantage, especially with his mala laying spread across the floor of the altar.

The Oni laughs. “That, omnic? I believe.” The hand at his throat grasps one of his pistons to keep him pinned while the other holds a hip to keep him still. Not that he was squirming. “I could almost believe you  _ want _ this.”

“A different approach next time, perh- ahhh!” Zenyatta gasps as he feels his valve fill with a warm, thick length that could only be the demon’s cock. There’s a strange texture to it, but it doesn’t hurt. It was invasive and demeaning, which, he supposes, was a hurt he’d deal with  _ later. _

He clenches around the shaft inside him, earning a pleased hiss from the demon. “There’s no use rushing me. I will use you until I am finished.”

“Which of us do you suppose has the most patience?” Zenyatta asks in amusement.

“Shut up!” The demon snarls and pulls back, only to slam forward roughly, protrusions of some kind catching on his inner walls. He feels every inch in and out of himself. “You  _ will _ submit to me!”

Zenyatta doesn’t stop the moans that the sensations pull from him, more focused on staying alert and figuring out a way to best the other. “ _ Ahhh, aite no nai kenkaahhhn! Wa dekinu. _ ” 

The thrusts only grow rougher, causing toe-curling pleasure to heat his core. He vents steam and the demon makes a sound between surprise and awe. “Nnnh, you enjoy this. Being fucked like you’re worth nothing more than the pleasure you provide.”

Zenyatta gives a breathy sort of laugh that is a poor attempt to cover up his moans. “It is a recurring, haahhhh, fantasy.”

The demon shoves deep inside of him and he feels liquid splash hot against his inner walls, the Oni’s cock pulsing and twitching hard as the demon finds release. When there is no movement other than the occasional twitch inside him, Zenyatta carefully raises his torso and turns his head to look at the demon behind him. “At what point am I meant to be ruined, exactly?”

The Oni’s eyes snap open and that tooth-filled mouth curls into a snarl. “When I scatter your pieces across the mountain, omnic.”

A rough hand grabs the wires hanging from his spine and yanks him upright. His voice box catches at the unexpectedly painful sensation, a sharp high-pitched electrical whine escaping from him. The demon pulls out, slick dripping down his thighs as his valve clenches around the sudden emptiness.

Two fingers push inside him again, crooking and scraping the demon’s release from his body. He shifts uncomfortably until they are removed. He doesn’t have time to relax before those wet fingers are painting his faceplate. The demon laughs.

“Paint you up like the pretty little whore you are, eh omnic?” 

“As you wish.” He can feel the sticky liquid drip down his face, the surface covered with sensitive nodes. It is far from his first facial but never had they been quite  _ this _ demeaning.

“A veritable people pleaser. You  _ should’ve _ been a whore.” The Oni snarls, yanking on his spinal wires and eliciting a sharp cry at the sudden pain. He arches his back to try and alleviate it, and the demon smirks and throws him to the ground roughly. His optics flicker and his voice box emits static when his head bounces off the floor again.

Zenyatta hasn’t had time to gather his wits about him before he is manhandled into being on his knees, face plate scraping against the stone floor of the altar. He raises his hips to attempt to lessen the strain on his shoulder pistons, arms still bound behind his back. 

“Yes, look how  _ eager _ you are.” The Oni crouches down beside him, one hand making sure he can’t move his head, and the other sliding over his pelvis to rub two fingers over his valve, bumping up against his pleasure node with every stroke. He doesn’t stop the whines that escape his throat, nor how his body rocks back into the touches. Shame was not a concept he was prone to. The Oni seems to find his actions amusing. “I bet I could get you off no matter how much you think you don’t want this.”

“Don’t mistake my compliance for consent.” He manages to say without moaning, the light touches a welcome change from the pain.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, omnic.” 

His sounds grow louder and more desperate the closer he gets to release. The louder he gets, the lighter the touch becomes, until he is throwing his hips back to try and overload, just needing the slightest bit more friction against him.

Of course, that’s when the Oni stops touching him altogether, leaving him wailing against the stone at the denial. A low laugh cuts through the haze of his arousal. “Look at you. So needy and desperate. Pathetic.”

His fans spin loudly as he tries to regain composure, his valve leaking slick and the demon’s release down his thighs and onto the floor. His inner walls clamp down, trying to stimulate his internal sensors with any sort of friction, but they cannot sense one another, built for external stimuli like fingers, tongues, and cocks; none of which are inside him.

“Y-you cannot fault me my programming.” He says once his internal processes have sorted themselves out, focusing on cooling his overheating core more than communicating with his captor. 

The Oni yanks his arms further up, internal alarms blaring at the sudden pressure on his pistons as they are forced outside the limits of what they can handle. He cries out when they snap, leaking oil over his back and onto the stone floor. He’s roughly pulled onto his knees. His arms are guided until they’re in front of him, dangling limply, unable to move with broken pistons. But he can still feel, and the pain radiates from his shoulders. 

“I thought you were programmed to  _ like _ pain?” The Oni sneers, smearing fingers through the small puddle of oil and adding it to the release drying on his face. 

Zenyatta meets the smug face of the demon. “I told you, Oni: my compliance is not consent. And consent makes a world of difference between enjoyable pain, and that which is unpleasant.”

That broad red mouth widens in a grin, revealing more sharp teeth. “ _ Ryouyaku wa kuchi ni nigashi. _ ”

“If it is my fear you want, you will not receive it.”

“Never say never,  _ saseko _ .” The Oni shoves him back hard enough that his plating scrapes loudly against the floor. He barely has time to register his new position before the Oni is dragging his hips up over broad thighs. This time he can see the cock about to enter him.

It’s long and thick and covered in ridges and large fleshy nubs that he recognizes as what must have been catching against his inner walls before. It’s also prosthetic, like every other unclothed portion of the Oni other than the bright white face, though it’s as brilliantly crimson as the fiercely intelligent eyes gazing down at him.

“Perhaps you can last longer this time?” Zenyatta teases. A hard pinch to his clit has him crying out, suddenly right back on the edge of orgasm with that one touch. “Ah! F-fuck...”

“So you do have some vulgarity at your disposal. Good.” Prosthetic hands tighten around his hips and he’s all but pulled onto the demon’s cock, writhing in place and moaning loudly as his pleasure nodes finally got what they ached for. He arches his back as he comes around the cock inside him, hard, steam venting from him as his fans cycled as fast as they could go. The Oni laughs cruelly and moves one thumb over top of Zenyatta’s clit, allowing the harsh thrusts into him to rub the rough texture of the prosthetic finger over his hypersensitive node.

“Oh  _ fuck! _ Please, it’s too m-much!” He tries to close his legs or kick at the demon, but it’s too soon after an overload; his systems are still rebooting. He can only take what the Oni gives him. The thrusts inside of him grow rougher, and soon he is wordlessly crying out with every push in and drag out. The texture of the cock inside of him and the finger against his clit is too much to process. 

“Beg me! Beg me to end it!”

He throws his head back as the overstimulation throws him into another overload, forcing a staticky scream from his voice box that ends with a high pitched mechanical whine as it briefly cuts out from strain. His attacker moves a hand to his throat and leans forward, the other hand steadying his hips as the demon fucks into him even harder. Were he capable of bruising, his body would have done so, both inside and out.

“I won’t stop until you beg, omnic. Your systems will overheat and critically fail one. By. One.” Each word is punctuated with a deeper thrust, only for the speed to be picked up again, the Oni hammering into him relentlessly.

He is no use to anyone if he allows too many processes to shut down. So he pushes past the overstimulation to speak, voice popping and stuttering with an underlying electrical whine to all his words. “I-I beg of y-you! End thi- ahhhn! E-end this!”

He feels his attacker’s hips stutter, and he throws himself into the role asked of him as genuinely as he’s able. “P-please, O-ahhh-ni!  _ Please! _ ”

“ _ Fuck!” _ Heat fills him again, feeling even hotter against his overstimulated sensory nodes. Then teeth are against his exposed neck wires and the finger over his clit is joined by another. His system slams into a third overload, and then promptly crashes.


	2. Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji is rudely interrupted from his molestation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to [Ruinate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinate/pseuds/ruinate) for editing this chapter. Please send water for his crops. My overuse of passive voice killed them.

 The omnic falls limp beneath him. Genji lets go of it as it settles lifelessly to the ground. He has time before its systems reboot to prepare.

Tucking himself back inside his modesty panel, he pulls off his hakama trousers completely. There’s a moment while he folds them and places them on the altar that he looks at the omnic lying on the ground. He gathers the individual orbs of the monk’s mala and puts them in one of the larger offering baskets, placing them against the opposite wall, out of its reach.

He glances outside, eyes scanning the mountainside. The snow falls sparsely for now, but the increasing wind and darkening sky speaks of an incoming storm. Turning back to the omnic, he grabs on of its arms and effortlessly drags it over to one of the walls, ignoring the scrape of its chassis on the ground. He props it up, holding one shoulder as he crouches down to inspect the broken pistons. The break was more a matter of misaligned parts than any lasting damage. He smirks and pops them back into place easily enough.

Its core temperature is still high beneath his palms, and its fans haven’t yet restarted. He can hear the ticking of its internals slowly cooling in the mountain air. His prosthetic body has no problem handling the cold; so long as it doesn’t drop drastically below freezing, his systems would remain functional.

He leans back and looks the omnic over. He’s done quite a number on it. Its neck still lets out an occasional spark, release and oil smeared across its faceplate. The internal damage must be quite extensive for that much oil to be washing out his release; a small pool is forming beneath the offline omnic.

Oh, round two was going to be _fun._

“I have the upperhand now, Master.” He grins viciously and leans forward to lick off some of the mess from its faceplate. The sound of its systems rebooting grow steadily over the next several minutes, until its array flickers back on. Genji purrs and straddles the omnic’s legs, knees against its hips and hands resting over its chassis. The metal is cool to the touch now, but has a growing heat beneath it. “You’re not quite dead yet, omnic.”

The monk’s voice box strains, distortion threading through its words. “I expected to be in pieces.”

The Oni gives a rich chuckle, leaning forward to lick more of the liquids off of its faceplate. “That will come soon enough. I’m not finished with you yet.”

It tilts its head warily and rolls its shoulders carefully; a high electrical whine pierces the air. “You repaired me.”

“I _want_ you to struggle, omnic.” He reaches down, feeling for the mechanism that releases the omnic’s cock. He smirks when it emerges, already hard. He drags a finger up it. “Your fuckhole is broken, so I’m going to use this instead.”

He flicks the cock with a laugh. The monk’s voice box emits static before it manages words. “Please don’t... ah!”

Genji grins, closing one hand around its sparking throat and the other around its warm, hard cock. “Don’t... What? Stop?”

The monk struggles to reply, rough touches too much on overstimulated nodes, even if its cock had yet to be touched. Its dick shares sensors with its clit, and the Oni had gone out of his way to ensure that he’d overloaded the latter with pleasure.

With a groan Genji rubs his own valve against the tip of the omnic’s length, lubricant beading at the tip, smeared against his entrance. “I was hoping for bigger. You disappoint me.”

A staticky whine serves as his only response, as he licks more of the mess from the omnic’s faceplate. “I’ll ruin you soon enough.”

He darts forward and closes his teeth over the sparking wires of its neck, hips rocking at the thrill of electricity that races through him. Without warning, he drops down onto the cock beneath him, modded valve squeezing around the omnic _hard._ The mod was the inverse of his cock, covered in ridges and thick fleshy nubs that pinch and grind against the cock within.

Dual moans fill the small space, one pained, one pleasured. Genji grinds his fangs against the wires, shivering at the shocks to his system. The monk puts its hands against his chest, shoving him backwards.

He allows it with a laugh. “Mmm, can’t hide your pleasure from me, whore. I can feel you twitching inside of me.”

It moans again and shifts its hips half-heartedly, hands curling around the fabric still covering the Oni’s torso. Its cock _does_ twitch inside of him, as he rolls his hips without raising them. He clenches down on the omnic and viciously grins at its cry of pain, voice box crackling.

“You sing so sweetly. How many others have you sung for, little slut?” Without waiting for an answer, he raises up in its lap only to slap his hips back down. He begins a brutally fast pace that has the monk holding onto him desperately, pressing its head against the stone wall and its feet into the floor.

The monk squirms deliciously beneath him. “T-too much, it’s-aaahn!”

Genji groans as his cock slips from his modesty panel, grinding between omnic’s abdominal pistons. It gasps and looks down, hands flattening on his chest as it watches the Oni’s cock bounce. “Your fuckhole aching for me already, _aho?_ ”

It throws its head back with a cry; as expected, it overloads first. Heat spills into him as it writhes beneath him, voice distorting and cutting out as he continues to fuck himself on it. The hands that gripped him so close suddenly try to stop him from moving at all, grasping at his shoulders to still him. He huffs a laugh and doesn’t slow down, capturing its hands in his own and pinning them to either side of its head.

“Nnnh, not done with you yet!”

It struggles, voice box crackling with pleas between bouts of static and electrical whines. It wrenches one hand away from him but doesn’t do anything else other than brace it on the ground, movements ignored by the Oni. He wraps his free hand around his cock and strokes it hard and fast as he rides the omnic. Shocks of pure pleasure roll through his system at his fingers catching on the ridges of his length. His ribbed valve grips the monk’s cock tightly within him as he spirals higher towards his release.

The omnic kicks its feet as another week overload wracks its overstimulated body. The spurt of slick inside him has him groaning, slamming down on the omnic’s cock and _clenching_. The monk cries out as his roughly textured valve grinds into the sides of its cock as he comes between its abdominal pistons, squeezing his cock tightly while he rocks through the aftershocks.

He laughs softly, gnawing at the frayed wires at the monk’s throat. It lays there limply, voice box occasionally crackling, but otherwise unmoving. Genji licks up the omnic’s neck and over its faceplate once more, humming contently. “Ah, give me a few moments, and I shall finish this, hm?”

A strange sound has him lifting his head, and he looks at the omnic curiously. It has an arm outstretched - when had that happened? - and has its optics turned to the space behind him. He turns, gasping in surprise as an orb soars towards his face. Throwing himself to the side, both he and the omnic cry out as its cock is ripped from within him. He looks up to see the orb bounce off the indent created in the wall.

The omnic grasps it in hand, a relieved sound escaping it as a yellow glow seeps out and coalesces up its arm - until a small glowing ball of energy floats over one of its shoulders. The monk stops hunching in pain, its strength slowly returning.

He has to stop it.

The Oni snarls and launches himself at the omnic, only to be stunned senseless when an orb drives directly into his face. The _crack_ of his faceplate is audible; a minor coolant line breaks, dripping down his face slowly.

“I c-cannot allow you to to to contin-tin-tinue. Too mmmany rely o-o-o-ooon me, and I’m not yet d-d-done with thisssss world.” Its words stutter and glitch, likely caused by some crossed wires.

That sound again, and Genji watches in awe as the rest of the orbs zip back towards their owner, settling around its neck. The odds of him overpowering it without the element of surprise were slim to none. He coughs to catch its attention and flashes a wide grin up at the omnic, all teeth and tusks. “You may escape today, monk, but I will find you again. Someday, I will finish what I started.”

The golden glow surrounds the monk, standing tall and serene. The various fluids dripping down its parts do nothing to detract from how _powerful_ it looks. “Ne-e-e-e-ext time I will nnnnot be be be caught off guard.”

The healing auro does little to repair its voice box, and the demon smirks. “We’ll see, pretty little whore. We’ll see.”

The omnic gives him a mockingly courteous nod before it claps its hands together. The brilliant light flares even brighter and Genji forces himself to look away, the radiance painful on sensitive eyes.

When he looks back, the omnic is gone.

He rushes out into the thickening snow and looks around. Already, the worsening weather has swallowed up any sign of the monk. Genji stretches and smiles before casually tucking his cock back behind his modesty panel.

“‘Til next time.”

 

* * *

 

Genji waits until the storm is at full strength and everyone has retreated indoors to the warmth of their rooms before he enters the monastery. He scales up the side, avoiding detection from security and those who patrol the halls. He peeks through every window until he finds what he’s looking for, slipping silently inside as he creeps towards the bed.

Immediately, a single golden orb latches onto him and he melts at the serenity that fills him, a groan escaping his lips as he stops in his tracks. “You’re meant to be asleep.”

“I did not wish to w-w-without you.” Zenyatta slips out of bed and steps up to his side, gently removing his clothing and armor. Each piece is discarded carelessly, his hands much more interested in touching the man beneath.

“Your voice-”

“Will be fine,” Zenyatta reassures him, running his thumb lightly over the crack in the Oni mask. He removes it gently, revealing Genji's scarred face beneath it, brows furrowed in concern and what could be guilt. Synthetic eyes meet digital array for several long, searching moments before Genji closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Zenyatta’s. He drops the mask and lifts a hand to his student’s cheek. “Are you well, dearest one?”

They stay as they are, while Genji considers the question. “So long as you are, Master.”

The omnic hums in agreement and raises his head to press the seam of his faceplate to Genji’s lips; a light electrical current sparks between them, creating a pleasant tingle on the cyborg’s mouth. He sighs into it and relaxes further, muscles loosening and leaning heavier into Zenyatta.

“I am excellent, my d-dear.” Zenyatta pulls away long enough to fetch a warm washcloth from the bowl beside the bed, wiping Genji down gently. Soon, with his mask removed and all signs of earlier cleaned, Genji feels like a new man.

He tugs Zenyatta towards the bed and lies in it, sighing in relief once the monk curls up against him in his arms. “I do not think the Oni will be visiting often.”

Zenyatta hums and rubs his hand over Genji’s thigh. “He need never return.”

A quick glance down at the omnic reveals nothing - Genji chooses his words carefully. “Would you... want him to?”

A light chuckle escapes Zenyatta. “If you are asking if I enjoyed my-my-myself, I did. Very, _very_ much.”

The last few words are practically purred; despite everything they had done together, Genji still flushes. “You are wicked, Master.” He allows himself to trace his fingers over his warm chassis, relearning him without the claws of the Oni gauntlets. “It is no wonder you caught the eye of a demon.”

Zenyatta thrums steadily against him, mechanical parts a constant heartbeat, while his own levels out.

“Perhaps, I should be the one to catch a demon next time,” He hums thoughtfully. Genji’s mind flashes to the possibilities and he grows warm everywhere, even though his worn out body protests.

“If you think you can,” Genji teases.

“That sounds like a challenge, my student. Have you learned n-n-n-nothing?” Zenyatta’s voice is warm and amused.

Genji sits up and kisses Zenyatta’s faceplate, grinning impishly. “I suppose I haven’t. Teach me, Master. I am eager to learn.”

A hum emanates from the omnic as he pushes Genji down. “I do not doubt this. Now, rest - I would explore you.”

The cyborg shivers and arches prettily, fluttering his lashes up at Zenyatta coyly. “So soon?”

Zenyatta laughs softly and the Iris bursts forth, golden hands manifesting behind him. Genji has only a moment of surprise before half a dozen hands rub at his sore muscles, and he groans despite himself. “A-ah! You cheat!”

“You are the one who pushed yourself, dearest. Allow me to put you at ease.”

Genji acquiesces to Zenyatta’s request, settling under his warm touch as he soothes the aches and pains from their game. His eyes close and he makes a noise of appreciation, leaning into a hand that cups his cheek. “Thank you, _itohsii hito._ ”

“It is my pleasure, bright one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be all there was for this fic, but then I got struck with inspiration, so there's gonna be one more chapter. Stay tuned!


End file.
